


Dream Eater

by TheMockingCrows



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Burns, Dreams and Nightmares, Fae & Fairies, Hal is a trashbag, Kidnapping, M/M, Nudity, Soul Theft, Spirits, Vomiting, mentions of dream sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-14
Updated: 2020-09-14
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:35:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26464264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMockingCrows/pseuds/TheMockingCrows
Summary: When John starts having dreams about his boyfriend, he assumes nothing is out of the ordinary. When the dreams turn to nightmares, he's concerned. When dreams become reality and he's faced with a creature hellbent on keeping him in his world, will he be able to find a way home again?
Relationships: Auto-Responder | Lil Hal/John Egbert, John Egbert/Dirk Strider
Comments: 3
Kudos: 43





	Dream Eater

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Clamdiver](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clamdiver/gifts).



> Written for my friend.

It was summer when the dreams first started, but autumn when they really came to a head for John. Near nightly he’d see his boyfriend in his sleep, and while he assumed it was just fondness that drove the visitations, or the fact they were together so often to begin with during the daytime hours now that it had been four years together, it was seeming more and more like something else was going on inside his mind.

The Dirk in his dreams was oddly affectionate, showering him in kisses and touches that usually only came after a prolonged period of relaxing in one another’s presence. The Dirk in his dreams was also ethereally attractive, almost as if a halo were burnishing his pale hair, obscuring parts of his face and eyes with the reflective light. Butterflies tended to dance around, sunset colors on their wings, some with bright electric blue eye spots. Whenever John was with this Dirk in his dreams, everything felt better. The kisses, the attention, even the sexual escapades felt realer than real, leaving him aching in the morning for more when he woke. More than once he’d had to feverishly jack off just to be able to clear his head and function the following day.

Dirk in reality didn’t seem to want to pay the dreams any heed. He found them amusing, or at least said he did, but didn’t want to discuss them further than the bare minimum. It was kind of frustrating, really. It made John not feel heard, but what could he really do? Dirk wasn’t into dream stuff, and that was that. On the recommendation of his friends he wound up searching for dream meanings, and found that the sex, mind blowing as it was, was just a sign that he could have that kind of passion in real life. The butterflies had a meaning too, more positive, dealing with longevity and romance, spirituality and joy, creativity. Great sex, long life, romance and joy sounded like a pretty good omen.

Now if he could just get Dirk to actually listen to him about them, maybe they’d be able to tap into the elements he’d been experiencing and they could recreate them.

Tonight was another dream, the butterflies leading a nude John from a circle of mushrooms where he’d ‘awoken’ to what looked like a grand table set with food and elaborate tea sets, some scene from Alice in Wonderland he was sure. All that was missing was a rabbit and a mouse, for the mad hatter’s position seemed to be filled by a similarly nude Dirk, who sat pouring two cups of tea for them to partake of. The liquid was a rich reddish color, matching the decadent desserts and fruits and jams that speckled the table. Dirk smiled as he approached, and beckoned for him to take a seat. The chairs all looked overstuffed and plumply comfortable, but John settled into one nearest Dirk’s right hand and accepted his cup, drinking some of the liquid.

Even in a dream it tasted like what he assumed ambrosia tasted like, sweet and fulfilling to his very core, warm down his throat and settling in his stomach like a syrup. He was quick to drink a bit more as Dirk spoke to him.

“Do you love me?”

“Well. Yeah, of course I do,” he said with a soft laugh.

Dream logic, he supposed. Calling into question any doubts he might have. At least there weren’t any, at this point.

Dirk smiled softly before taking one of the cakes on the table and slathering it with a bit of jam, then took a careful bite.

“Would you tell me anything?”

“I try already but you’re kind of a dick sometimes,” John said with a smirk, looking over the spread again from where he sat before he reached for a raspberry and ate it, surprised by the perfect balance of sweet and tart. It’s like these things were made just for him, ripened and blended just right.

“Would you give me anything, if I needed it?” Dirk asked with the same smile.

“Uh, yeah. ...Wait, do you need something?” John asked, suddenly a bit concerned. In his dream hunting he’d learned that sometimes dreams were portents of the future or deep insight. Maybe Dirk was needing something that he didn’t want to ask for? It wouldn’t be the first time John had had to drag something out of his boyfriend.

“I do,” Dirk said, looking sad suddenly. “I need all of you...”

“Dirk you’ve uh... You’ve kinda had all of me before,” John laughed slightly, brows coming together as his face reddened. “Multiple times? Even in dreams? What more is there to give?”

“A lot,” Dirk said, finishing his treat before standing up. The table seemed to sink into the ground in front of him, all the treats disappearing beneath the grass as butterflies flocked in ever increasing numbers. When nothing was in his path, Dirk came and leaned on the arms of John’s chair, getting right in his face. This close, John could finally see Dirk’s eyes, a piercing red that reminded him of Dave’s in a way. This might be a dream, but somehow the wrong eyes and the suddenly threatening, shark like grin that his boyfriend was giving him made John cower in his seat. He was far too exposed to be feeling scared, the warm sensations of the tea party giving way to the ice cold of a nightmare.

“U-uhm...”

“Your heart. Your body.  _ Your soul _ ,” Dirk rasped, his voice too low. His red eyes looked crazed, his teeth too sharp, and his laughter that came sounded like breaking glass to John’s ears.

He woke in a cold sweat, tangled in his sheets, huffing for breath, eyes wide in terror. The alarm was going off on his bedside table, leaving him to wonder if he would have woken up at all when things went sour, or if things would have gotten worse. John rubbed his damp face and yanked his sweat soaked blankets off of him to get up and change clothes, dressing for the day as much as he needed to before grabbing for his phone.

He had to tell Dirk about this one. He absolutely had to.

The phone rang before he finally heard the familiar voice on the other end, tired, as if-

“Did you not sleep again?”

“Did you call me just to antagonize me about my sleep schedule?”

“No, I- Look, I had a dream. Another one.”

“Here we go.”

“Listen! You were in it again! And you were wrong!”

“... I was in your dream and I was incorrect about something? Wow, what a nightmare,” Dirk said sarcastically. John smacked his forehead and groaned in annoyance.

“No, no, I mean you were wrong. Like something was wrong with you. Your eyes were the wrong color and you were talking about my soul and laughing like a maniac.”

“John, you had a nightmare,” Dirk rationalized. “I’m sorry you had a rough night’s sleep, but they happen.”

“I was looking up dream stuff the other day an-”

“And that’s probably why you had a fucking nightmare, do you know how hokey all that dream analysis stuff is?”

“I don’t know, man, some of it was pretty interesting. It explained a lot of things I’ve been thinking about, an-”

“You’re just as likely to get reliable information from horoscopes,” Dirk sighed. “Look. I’m not wanting to piss on your parade, but really John. I was just a nightmare. The dreams are just dreams. We’re near each other all the time, your brain just remembers the things we do and say and parks them in new orders and mishmashes them with everything else you’ve ever seen and done and thought till it’s like new.”

“I know how dreams work!”

“Then you know how nightmares work, too.”

“UGH forget it, forget it... Why’d I even bother, you never want to talk about dreams.”

“If it’s aspirations I’ll talk till your ears fall off and your voice goes creaky, John. But dreams are just made up things your brain creates to keep you pacified at night. They’re hallucinations. Try not to get too hung up on’em, okay? You keep having the same types of dreams because you’re so focused on figuring them out, of course the themes will be similar.”

“But the nightmare…”

“Was a nightmare.”

John was quiet for a moment before he grimaced.

“It really scared me, Dirk. Like, honest to God scared me.”

“...Okay, look, that was probably a dick move on my part.” Dirk sighed quietly, considering his words more carefully. “Do you want me to come over?”

“You haven’t slept yet, have you.”

“No, if you must know, I was busy.”

“Take a nap and then you can come over,” John reasoned. “I don’t want you half dead, I want you to be comfortable to lay on.”

“If you just want to lay on me, wouldn’t a nap be the perfect thing to do at your house?”

“No, I’ve uh. I’ve gotta change the sheets.”

“...John, you didn’t-”

“I DIDN’T PISS THE BED, GOD, I just sweat a lot from the nightmare!” John cried, leaning down with one hand to yank the bottom sheet off the mattress in one hard tug. It came free and dragged the entire contents of the bed down to the floor with it on his feet, leaving John grumbling in annoyance.

“Okay, okay, I was kidding. I know you would never admit to it even if you did.”

“DIRK.”

John could almost hear the smirk in his voice. “I’ll call you after I’ve slept, then. Catch you later, John.”

Annoyed, John hung up when Dirk did and dropped his phone on his desk before turning and crouching down to gather the sheets and pillowcases up off the floor. What a mess, he didn’t feel like doing laundry, but apparently that’s what he was going to do first thing in the morning. The bedding joined the other laundry in his hamper and he headed downstairs with it, wandering the short trip to the utility room before freezing, hand ready to reach into the darkness to flick the light switch on. For a split second he swore he saw eyes in the darkness, red eyes and sharp teeth that made his heart clench in panic, before he shoved his hand in and turned the light on. Illuminated, there was no obvious threat in the room aside from an early morning chill for his bare feet.

He did his laundry. He ate breakfast. He spent the afternoon laying on Dirk playing videogames together and shooting the shit to make up for Dirk’s attitude earlier in the day and because they had planned to do so anyway. The nightmare was all but forgotten as the days turned to weeks and new dreams filled the void left from the nightmare, proving Dirk’s theory correct about the dreams increasing frequency because he was focusing on it. Sometimes he still saw red eyes in the dark, or right as he was about to wake up, but it was easier to forget them.

...At least till the night the dream returned, larger than life.

John could feel his head sagging, his body going all but limp on the soft mattress, but knew he was still awake. He could feel his surroundings, the strange half sleep of a nightmare where he could just picture his sleep paralysis demon forming at the foot of his bed to loom over him, a shriveled hag there to suck the breath from his lungs. Yet, the hag never came. Instead, Dirk came, surrounded by ethereal butterflies.

“Time to get up, John Egbert. We’ve got a long walk ahead of us,” he said softly.

How had he gotten in here? Dirk didn’t have a key to the house, and it was so late he didn’t think his father would have let him inside. He’d never heard a knock, though he’d also been kind of concerned about the paralysis and potential demon coming to eat his face before he could fully wake up.

“Up, up, up, we’re going to be late,” Dirk cooed.

As if he were a puppet on a string, John pushed back his blankets and stood up, glassy eyed and silent, trapped inside his body like a sleepwalker who was aware of where his body was going. Dirk watched him silently as he pulled on his glasses and a hoodie, one of the ones Dirk himself had left during one of his many visits that John had started living in because it was comfortable. He didn’t recall giving his body the order to put on clothes on top of his pajamas. Was he going to put on shoes, too? Where were they going?

To the window, apparently. That’s how he’d gotten in. John could have sworn he’d locked it, but he’d also be lying if he said it was the first time Dirk had ever snuck into his room late at night. Dirk exited first, and extended a pale, ungloved hand John’s direction to urge him to follow. John came right along, though on the inside he was getting more and more frantic. He wasn’t in control of his body, could Dirk tell that? He didn’t  _ want  _ to go outside, the roof was slick from rain recently, and it’d be cold. He didn’t want to go outside barefoot at all, but the roof would just be dangerous.

He tried to pull the plug on his waking nightmare.

He failed.

He took Dirk’s hand and followed him steadily out to the roof, perfectly balanced despite his fear, the night sky overhead cloudy and speckled with stars whenever the rain laden puffs would move out of the way enough. A crescent moon illuminated the grass below shimmering like diamonds with dew, far enough below that John would definitely break his neck if he slipped.

Dirk jumped backwards and landed with catlike grace on the ground below, barely bending his knees… and opened his arms upwards with a grin that showed too many teeth beneath the sharp bottom edges of his dark shades. He reminded John of a shark, unappealing and dangerous, even more dangerous because apparently he knew how to make John’s body listen to him. Following an unheard command once more, John approached the edge of the rooftop, bare toes peeking over the edge of the slick eaves to the gutter that definitely couldn’t hold his weight.

He extended a leg, and screamed inwardly, panicked, not wanting to land in the hospital.

John fell, weightless and full of panic, only for Dirk to catch him as if he weighed nothing, setting him down on his feet on the wet grass once again. He lifted a hand and gestured as if he were calling a pet to heel, and John continued his sleepwalkers shamble after him, first through the grass of his yard and then onto the cold asphalt of the road. 

John lost track of how long they walked, toes long numb from the cold and the repeated contact with dirt and stones and sticks, mind in a frazzle over what to do as he followed his pied piper boyfriend into the woods. The chilled scent of pine needles and wet, spongy earth flooded John’s senses, normally so soothing, but now terrifying. What was happening? What was  _ going  _ to happen? Why the fuck was he being taken out to the middle of nowhere like this by his boyfriend?

Had he snapped?

Was this some weird surprise? Some… some experiment he was keeping secret?

Was he in danger? He’d caught him after jumping off the rooftop, but this was crossing some serious boundaries that John couldn’t quite put together in order right now due to how scared he really was.

They continued walking until Dirk suddenly stopped and turned around, opening his arms once more with the same shark like grin that had chilled John to his core earlier, the least Dirk-like thing that he’d seen in his life. Dirk never smiled like that. Dirk’s smiles were subtle, fleeting flashes and soft shying away before finally warmly rolling out beyond his control.

This smile was threatening, all danger.

“Come here, John… That’s right,” he said as John took more sleepwalker steps forwards into what looked like a circle of mushrooms. Once in range, Dirk grasped him into a tight hug and crooned, grasping his chin with his hand to make him lift it, planting a kiss onto his lips. “Perfect, sweet John Egbert... and now you’re mine…”

The lips were cold as ice, sending a chill down his spine even as the night sky seemed to sickly shift its cast from a deep blue and starlight to something more akin to dawn in the blink of a swirling eye. Where were they? This wasn’t the same forest they’d been in minutes before that John could tell, this was… this was different. Different, but he could recognize it from his dreams. The mushroom circle, the pathway the butterflies had led him along before, and in the distance a table sat empty of tea and pastries.

As if on cue, the butterflies appeared, some massive and bigger than his head, others small as his fingertip, all the colors of the rainbow. Things seemed too vivid suddenly, too bright, and nausea ate at him. John’s eyes rolled back into his head as his knees went slack, losing the vision of the world and the strange Dirk to darkness.

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

  
  
  


When John woke, it was to a butterfly perched on his nose, its delicate feet tickling his skin and its large eyespots visible as it fluttered its wings slowly in front of his eyes. He reached a hand up to swat it away before he looked around in alarm, trying to figure out where he was. This was definitely a space he’d never seen before, not even in his dreams. He had been resting on a massive cushion the size of a small bed on the floor, legs curled up to make himself as small as possible in his sleep. His hoodie was gone, as were his clothes he’d been sleeping in, replaced with what at first looked like a sheet of its own. On closer inspection though, it seemed to be a sheet of some kind of fine fabric with butterfly patterns of varying sizes on it, blue silk with white and silver details, pearls emblazoning some of the more detailed portions, the style loose and held with clasps and pins. It was honestly the prettiest thing John had ever seen, let alone the softest on his skin, but it didn’t change how strange it was that it was suddenly on his body. Where the fuck were his clothes?

“Ah, you’re awake. Excellent. I know the transfer between worlds can be kind of a lot even for beings like myself, I suppose a human constitution just isn’t up for it.”

The voice was familiar, causing John to jerk his head around towards the source, but he only frowned upon seeing it. There Dirk was, though not his Dirk, dressed in a similarly styled silk garment, though in red with black and gold accents, butterflies big and small with the same small pearls. Around his neck rested a silver cage necklace, with a small electric blue marble resting inside. The not-Dirk Dirk approached with what looked like a breakfast tray laden with sweet berries and tea, pastries and crockery identical to that of his dream. His throat ached just from the memory of how sweet it would be, how perfectly ripe the berries, before he felt a cold chill as another memory came to the forefront. Dirk seemed to recognize his fear, because he smiled at the same time.

“I mean you no harm, I promise. After all, I have all the time in the world to get to know you now,” he said, setting the tray down near John’s cushion before going to take a seat on another cushion near a table. “Please, eat. It should settle your stomach somewhat.”

“I’m not hungry, I want to know what the fuck happened!” John insisted, ignoring the tray. “Who  _ are  _ you?”

“My name is Hal,” said the not-Dirk. When John continued to look confused, he only smiled again. “I take it my form isn’t pleasing to you?”

“It’s too similar to someone I care about a lot.”

“Ah, that’s his problem, not mine. I’ve had this form for a lot longer than he’s had his. The resemblance is uncanny though, I admit. His family is likely displeased. Or they would be, if they were still keeping tabs on me.”

“Tabs? What about his family?” John asked, shifting his weight and the fabric to face this person more head on, not trusting him to be out of sight for a spare second.

“His family has known about me for generations, though the newer groups don’t know all the details,” he chuckled.

“...What are you.”

“Ah, that’s difficult to answer,” Hal said. “I don’t think your kind has a word for precisely what I am. For now, let’s just say I’m a spirit of sorts.”

“A spirit? Am- Wait, am I dead? Did I die when we went off the roof?” John asked, panicked suddenly. His dad would find his body and- “Fuck, how do I go home?”

“You don’t. You’re not dead, you just live here now,” Hal said simply. “I’ve brought you to my home to enjoy you for the foreseeable future.”

John gaped at him. “Wh-?”

“Humans are such fragile creatures, John. Wouldn’t you say so?” he asked. “Small things can cause their ends so quickly. Accidents, illnesses, acts of God, each other. Wouldn’t it be nice not to have to worry about that? To be able to live forever by my side?”

“I don’t even fucking know you,” John said bluntly, reaching up to adjust the fabric on his shoulder so it fell differently, feeling more and more exposed in the line of those eerily red eyes. The more he looked, the less like Dirk this person appeared in some key ways. His hair wasn’t blonde so much as almost silvery platinum, and his skin was pale as porcelain instead of sun kissed. He looked like some kind of doll, too smooth, too perfect. Too inhuman.

“Ah, formalities,” Hal said with a shake of his head, looking cockily amused that John was paying so much attention to him. “We have the world at our fingertips and you’re concerned about not knowing me immediately. I doubt you knew Dirk when you first met him, yet you came to love him, to be his beloved did you not?”

“I need to go home,” John said, rising unsteadily to his feet on the cushion. The swaths of fabric hung down to his feet almost like a dress, elegant and fitting around the right portions of his body.

“You  _ are  _ home, John. My home is your home now,” Hal said. “You’ll come to love it in time.”

“Where’s that fucking mushroom circle, I’m going  _ home _ ,” John insisted, looking at Hal once more before glancing to the doorway and back, as if afraid he’d get attacked. Instead of looking upset, Hal gestured towards the door.

“The circle is outside in the woods near the courtyard. Shouldn’t be too hard to find. By all means, go enjoy it, it’s lovely this time of the day.”

John paled somewhat and felt his stomach flip as he backed up a few paces, then grabbed the silk cloth around his legs and lifted it in front of his feet so he could run, dashing out of the room and down a set of stairs. He was panicked, blind and deaf save for the sound of his heart hammering in his ears, a deer caught in the sight of a predator as he fled, turning left and right into different rooms and hallways of the maze-like complex. It took a while, but John made it out of the sumptuously decorated building and outside into the courtyard, manicured grass and flowers so stunning that his steps actually slowed to look at them, mesmerized. Butterflies lazily danced through the air around him, flitting from one flower to the next, lighting on an outdoor set of chairs and topiaries before taking flight again. He swatted the air in front of his face before picking up the silk and running towards a gap in the trees soon as he spotted it, following the path till he came across something familiar.

The table sat prepared for tea, same as in his dreams, packed with the same treats and drinks as before, the same that Hal had brought him. Again his stomach sang for something to eat, his parched throat for something to drink, but he needed to reach the mushrooms first. Needed to look and see for himself, needed to understand how to get home.

The circle was simple, large white mushrooms decorating a perfect circle, their tops looking almost glassy and opalescent to match with what looked like mermaid tear stones and polished glass in the grass around it. The area shimmered and shone in the light, and he could understand now why he’d gotten so overwhelmed when he first stood in it. Even standing there now with nothing happening to him it was too bright, too vivid in color, too hyper-realistic. 4D in the 3D realm. 

Notably, though, he wasn’t going home. The mushrooms were mushrooms, there was no button to push, no magic circle lighting up at his presence. He tried saying “HOME” loudly and clearly as if the command would do something. He recited his address. He said his name. He begged. He pleaded.

He kicked a mushroom so hard it went flying and smashed against the trunk of a tree, and stomped to sit at the tea table. Agitated, he poured a cup of the hot liquid and drank it straight, not even caring that it somewhat burnt his throat, that it needed a bit of sugar. John rubbed his chest when it felt not only warm but uncomfortably hot for a moment, muttering to himself in annoyance. Of course he’d burn himself, it was just his fucking luck, but at least the discomfort was quickly over. He helped himself to a few raspberries and was angry at how perfect they were, how sweet, exactly ripe enough on his tongue.

The magic and mystery of these surroundings in his dreams had been interesting before when he thought he was talking with a dream Dirk, imaginary places with his lover of a world that didn’t quite make enough sense, somewhere that they could just be themselves and indulge in their fantasies. Somewhere that, till fairly recently, had felt like a welcoming space.

Groaning miserably, John sank his head into his palms and leaned on the tabletop, wracking his brain to try thinking of a way home.

“Ah, realized it doesn’t work yet?” came Hal’s voice from nearby. John lifted his head with a frown as the… whatever he was came closer, hand near the small cage necklace with its glowing blue stone, putting pressure over whatever heart he had.

“Yeah, thanks for letting me find out on my own,” he muttered. “...Why is this place so creepy?” asked John. “Where’s everyone else? The animals, even? All I’ve seen here is butterflies and you!”

“Oh, you’ll start to see them around soon enough. I thought for the first while it would be better for us to get to know each other better without much outside interference. For you to adjust to your new home.”

“This isn’t my home,” John growled aggressively, hand planting on the tabletop so he could stand more upright. “I’ll figure out how to make you understand that. I’m going home, this isn’t my home, I’m a human and you’re a… whatever you are. That thing in your head isn’t what’s happening.”

Hal gestured to the necklace he wore with a sharp smile.

“Oh. But it is, John. It is…”

  
  


\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Dirk’s phone rang early in the morning, early enough that even his meager sleep wasn’t enough to make him less groggy on the phone. He slapped at his phone a few times before rubbing his eyes and pulling it to his face. ...Hm. Okay, nine AM wasn’t that early, all things considered. But it was still pretty early for him. The number that was calling him was familiar, but rarely used.

“John? Dude, why not just call me from your phone, I’ve got a ringtone set up any everything,” he yawned.

“Dirk?”

“Oh. Sorry, Sir, I thought you were John.”

“No, no, there’s no need to be sorry,” James promised. He was quiet for a moment before speaking. “By any chance is John there with you?”

“No, he hasn’t come around today yet. Why?”

“I went to get him for breakfast and he was gone. Bed unmade, window open, windowsill damp. I’ve been up a few hours and never saw him leave anywhere, and there’s no way he’d be foolish enough to go out the window. I was wondering if he’d left late last night for some reason.”

Dirk sat up a little straighter. “No, but I’ll keep an eye out for him and call you if he turns up, okay?”

“Please, do. I’ve called his phone and it was left in his room, it’s very not like him... Dirk, he didn’t even take his shoes, they’re still on the floor.”

Dirk frowned, brows furrowing in concern. That definitely wasn’t like John. He wasn’t a morning person by any stretch of the imagination, nor was he the type to worry his dad if he could help it. He racked his brain trying to think of different places John might have gone, apparently phoneless and barefoot. “Is his wallet there?”

“Yes, it’s on his desk too. I can’t imagine where he’s disappeared to, it’s like he just vanished,” James said, voice sounding more concerned.

“Maybe he went for a walk, or sleepwalked or something,” Dirk said. “Look. Call the police and see what they say, maybe he’s at a hospital or something.”

“The hospital, oh, God, I didn’t even think-”

“Hey, it’s just a possibility, right?” Dirk said, wetting his lips. “I’ll go canvas the area near my place while you make your calls. Keep me posted?”

“Of course. Could you call some of his other friends for me while I’m talking to the police? I don’t know if I have all of their information on hand, I’m a bit frazzled.”

“Sure. You got it, Sir.”

James hanging up to get on to his calls left Dirk holding his phone, staring at it, stunned. Where would John have gone that early, barefoot and without his phone or wallet? Why would he leave his window open in this weather? None of this was making sense, and it was just making Dirk more and more anxious. He crawled out of his nest of blankets and pillows to stuff himself into a pair of jeans, already starting to call down the list of people they both knew.

An hour later and there were more questions than answers. A followup with James promised a bit of hope as police took the case as a suspicious disappearance, given the wallet and phone and shoes being left behind. Yet, even that didn’t help quell Dirk’ upset stomach. Nobody knew anything. Nobody had heard from John since he’d been online the night before, and even then it had been brief. He’d been tired apparently, wanting to go to bed at a decent-ish time for John. There’d been no suspicious activities, no strange questions or out of character discussions.

John was regular, normal, everyday John, and it had just been another night as far as anyone was concerned. 

Dirk spent the day checking his neighborhood, different haunts they had. Different places they’d gone on dates, or to hang out outdoors. He even went to the woods to check around where they’d found salamanders before, to no luck. By evening, with still no leads, he made his way home and started searching online.

On so little sleep, it was limited in what he’d be able to do beyond what he’d already done, the information he’d already given the police being more than they’d expected from a single person. He yawned as he typed, debating coffee to get a few more hours of awake time with a clear head, but soon decided against it. What use would he be strung out on caffeine and exhausted? What more could he do tonight? Very little. 

Regretfully, almost against his will, Dirk made himself sleep that night by sheer force of will. He took his shades off and flung himself back into his bed, tossing and turning for hours till, at last, sleep took him.

  
  


\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

John stared uneasily at Hal’s necklace, sensing something… off from it. Menacing in the way it glowed. But. Had it been glowing earlier? He couldn’t recall, but some part of him was sure that if he saw a glowing thing in a little silver cage he’d remember it. It felt threatening, but John wasn’t certain how much was coming from Hal himself and how much was coming from that soft blue glow at his neck.

“Look familiar?” Hal asked, rattling the cage gently. Something in John’s chest stirred and he swallowed hard. “Or are you going to be left in the dark, little hummingbird of mine?”

Hummingbird? John opened his mouth to complain, to question the nickname suddenly bestowed on him, when Hal clasped the cage in his fist and squeezed. The strange feeling in his chest amplified, and with it, nausea. Panic. He put his hands on his throat and wheezed, suddenly terrified. Asthma attack? He hadn’t had one of those since he was a kid! Why now? Why couldn’t he seem to get enough air in every pull?

“Humans are really so fragile,” Hal said, either ignoring or ignorant of John’s predicament entirely. “So simple, as well… Then again, that’s what happens when knowledge of the beyond isn’t taught like it used to be. Simple things. Don’t go in mushroom circles. Don’t name the darkness. Don’t give your true name to some creatures… don’t eat the food,” he hummed, lifting a brow as John began to cough and wheeze harder. He released his fist, and just as quickly as it had begun, John’s discomfort ended.

John gulped fresh air in heavy gasps, not wanting to be without it anymore in case anything else happened to come up and disrupt his airways. 

Wait.

Don’t eat the food?

“You’d think that Dirk would at least have had the interests in protecting his own lover from creatures like myself, but no, even he’s negligent,” Hal said, gently rattling the glowing marble in its cage. John felt like his heart was shuddering, and suddenly he realized he couldn’t look away from the light within that silvery cage.

“...What are you doing to me,” John asked, voice shaking. “I know it’s you causing this, what are you doing to me!”

“Doing? Doing. What am I doing,” he asked, curling his fingers gently around the cage again. Instead of squeezing though, he stroked gently at the cage. “I’m playing with my new favorite trinket, John. I think you’ve had it just about long enough, it’s my turn to play with it for the next while. You’ve no need for it here in the world beyond the mortal plane anyway,” he sniffed.

John wet his lips. “What’s your new trinket, Hal.”

“Something that belongs to me, now that you’ve bonded with this world,” he said with a grin. “I thought I’d have to trick you into eating my food here, but no, you did it all on your own.”

John’s stomach plummeted. “Is. ...Is that my-”

“Soul? Oh yes. Funny how small it is, isn’t it? When you condense a soul it becomes perfectly portable like this,” he chuckled. “I’ve collected others over the years, of course, but yours is the prettiest color yet once it finished transferring over... I was worried it would change colors once you gave it up, but no. It’s the same enchanting blue as your eyes.”

Without thinking, John lunged forwards to try snatching the necklace from Hal, scrabbling to catch it till his wrists were caught and squeezed so hard he could feel the bones creaking from the compression. His fingertips went numb, and his joints screamed for release till even he was crying out and trying to retract his hands.

“Let go!”

Hal got close to his face, turned his head and went to his neck instead to take a deep inhaled sniff of his scent before laying a chilly kiss on the skin. “You’ll come to love me soon, hummingbird. Just accept your new little cage, and we can live in peace and harmony… The sooner you give up your humanity, the sooner I can give you the world itself. An entire kingdom at your feet, a new home, a new form. You could shed your human skin and become what your truly are capable of becoming. Isn’t that amazing?”

“G-get off of me,” John insisted, continuing to struggle despite the chill of fear down his back. Hal was too close to his throat, too close to too many vital points for him to relax in the slightest. “Give me that back and get off of me! I want to go home!”

Hal let go of John suddenly, shoving him backwards hard enough he collided with his chair and toppled over backwards onto the ground, silks flying awkwardly to expose him till he scrambled to cover up again and right himself upright. There were marks on his wrists, and for all the world it felt like irons rested on his skin, weighing him down. Never in his life had he felt more trapped than now. When Hal stood, it looked as if the sky darkened, but John realized it was just the butterflies coming to roost around their master’s form in a storm from all sides, thick enough to nearly blot out the sun.

“I’ll give you some time to yourself, John. Give you some more time to come to terms with what’s happening. Let you appreciate the gravity of the situation… When you’ve come to your senses, if you wish for me sooner than I return, call for me and I’ll be there.”

“I’ll never call for you, stay gone forever for all I care!” John yelled, fury boiling in his chest. He rose to his knees and picked up a glass of tea, throwing it where Hal had stood. The most he did was catch some of the butterflies, several falling to the ground with damp wings, unable to join the swirling wall that whisked away their master.

“John… Hummingbird… You’ll learn… You’ll learn just how much you should appreciate me, how much you should enjoy your new role as my bride. I’ll give you time. Even humans learn things with enough time…”

“SCREW YOU AND SCREW YOUR TIME!!”

But Hal was already gone, and now John was stuck, out of breath and enraged, at a fantasy filled tea table that had, if he understood correctly, sealed his fate. Gritting his teeth he jumped at the table, flinging things this way and that, breaking dishes and spilling liquids on the ground, throwing treats into the forest. Eventually, he summoned the same strength his father possessed and upended the tea table entirely, flipping it onto its side with the remaining settings and food. The effort left him drained physically as he was emotionally, but fuck it had felt good at the time.

He explored for a bit after this, back to the building he’d run from earlier, poking around. Hal could apparently come and go as he pleased, but he’d be away for a while. Maybe there was some clue to getting home hidden inside the walls.

  
  
  


\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

  
  
  


Dirk’s eyes opened, but he wasn’t certain if he was awake or not. He couldn’t tell where things were in relation to each other, be it items in his room or the open space of some vast new world in the darkness. Form held no meaning. He could feel his stomach roil from the weightless feeling, dizzy, unsteady as if his inner ear were malfunctioning. He reached a hand out to grab his sheets, but found nothing. Instead, he reached behind himself to grasp at the headboard, knowing something solid would help with the dizzy feeling by orienting him upright. If that failed, he’d just need to roll to the floor and hug it for a second to stop feeling the sick sensation in the back of his head. 

Something moved in the corner of his vision, catching Dirk’s attention instantly. A butterfly, small and blue, fluttered around in wobbly circles. It seemed to be made of energy instead of something solid, no sign of its legs or antennae, the fluttering mechanical and fake the closer he looked at it. He tried to walk towards it, but his feet wouldn’t connect with the floor, so instead, assuming it was a dream, he made swimming motions till he propelled forwards. Up close the butterfly flickered and flashed before turning to tongues of blue flame, flapping for all they were worth.

The flame, suddenly, was caught up in a cage and pulled backwards from Dirk’s face. The cage was massive, but shrank and shrank until there was hardly anything left of it to be seen aside from the unmistakable silvery shape. 

A flame in a cage. Heh. Sounds like something John would come up with in one of his dreams. Dirk wondered what meaning such a dream could have, then remembered that John was actually missing, chest giving an uncomfortable ache in response.

_ “Dirk!” _

“...John?”

Dirk perked up immediately, looking around in the darkness for any sign of new visible objects, but failed to see anything further than the strange silver cage and the blue flame. 

“Dirk!” came John’s voice once more, sounding more desperate. “Please, I want to go home. I just want to go home!”

“John! John, where are you?!”

It was pointless to scream, if this was a dream. ...But maybe, just maybe, there was something to dreams after all. What if John was right? What if this was the once in a lifetime chance where a dream really was prophetic? What if John was hurt somewhere, scared and alone, and this was a clue? It made no logical sense, it was so illogical it made Dirk’s head pound, but he shouted all the same.

Any chance was better than no chance.

“I’m scared! I’m scared, what are you?!”

Dirk stopped breathing. ‘What are you?’ Was that what he’d said? Not  _ where _ are you but  _ what _ are you. He was scared. He was scared of something, of something an-

“Dirk, help!” shouted a voice overlapped with Johns, which once more gave Dirk pause. It was… his own voice? 

“John? I-. ...John, what’s going on?”

“ _Heeeeelp_ ~” said Dirk’s doppelganger voice in the darkness, before it broke down into a laugh like breaking glass. A face appeared above the silvery cage, then shoulders, a full body, pale and terrifying wrapped in red silks, face accented with red marks on the outside edges of piercingly cold eyes. The figure was smoking from a long pipe, trails of rich red smoke swirling around its body and up into the air. On its back were butterfly wings, massive and decorated with large, striking eye spots that seemed to shimmer when they flapped slowly. 

“Who in the  _ fuck- _ ” started Dirk, before he was interrupted once more.

“Really, Dirk, you finally see me for yourself and that’s all you can say…? Your family’s more pathetic than I thought, if their youngest doesn’t know what I look like,” he said. “My handsome face should haunt all of your dreams from the first to the last so I can eat all your delicious nightmares like candy. And all you can say is ‘Who in the fuck are you’,” he added mockingly.

It took a moment for Dirk to catch on, but when he did his blood ran ice cold. Hal. This was Hal. This was the dream eater he’d been warned about, the spirit who could ensnare wayward sleepers, the soul drainer. The creature that looked unnervingly like the face he saw in the mirror every morning.

“Hal,” he breathed. Then, an instant later, “JOHN-”

“Is safe and sound with someone who’ll take good good care of him,” Hal said with a wicked grin, taking a leisurely step into the darkness as if he were walking on pitch black water instead of being stuck floating and swimming like Dirk was, a swimmer without surface tension to work against.

“Let him go, Hal.”

“Mmm… You make such a good argument, but...” Another drag on the pipe and Hal exhaled another puff of the thick red smoke, perfumed and enchanting. “No.”

Dirk tried to mimic him to take a step, but was stuck floundering and flailing in the darkness as Hal walked around him in slow, lazy circles. “Hal, I swear to fuck, let him go. Don’t you have business with my family? Why not target me? Why target John?”

“My hummingbird is inconsequential to the eventual extinction of your family line,” Hal said. “A lovely trinket all my own to savor and enjoy. Tell me, Dirk. Once a human stops being human, do you think they become less or more beautiful?”

Dirk tried to grasp Hal’s leg, but was disappointed when his hand went right through him. He may as well be talking to a mirage, this was his natural realm of dreams after all, the rules weren’t the same.

“I’ll tell you. They become something spectacular, something humans fear naturally, subdued creatures that you are. I can’t wait to pick him apart and put him back together again for eternity.” Hal smiled and crouched down in front of Dirk, grinning, showing too many teeth. “...Would you like to see that? Have sweet dreams of my hummingbird each night? I could show you everything I plan to do to him starting tonight, if you wish.”

“Don’t you fucking  _ dare _ , don’t touch him, don’t do anything to him!” growled Dirk, swiping at Hal’s body again and again. “Come on, if you want a fight, I’ll bring a fight to you! That’s what you want, right? My family line, something about my family line, it-”

“Something!” crowed Hal. “Oh that’s  _ rich _ , you’re wanting to play Prince Charming and rescue your beau but you don’t even know what it is your family means to me! You’ve a deathwish, Dirk, mind that pretty head of yours.”

“I don’t care if I have a deathwish, better me than John being your… Your plaything,” hissed Dirk, continuing to swat in vain at the mirage figure in front of him.

Hal reached out and grasped Dirk’s hair then, suddenly very solid and very much a threat. 

“Fine. Don’t say I didn’t warn you, boy, your goal is worthless. Pointless. John is mine, and will remain mine. He’s broken a golden rule, and not even you can fix that,” he said in a soft hiss. He took another drag from his pipe before suddenly turning it, shoving the heated end against the flesh of Dirk’s neck with a crisp sizzle sound.

Dirk screamed in pain… and sat bolt upright in bed, wild eyed and drenched in chilled sweat. His heart was hammering in his ears, and he could still feel the burning on his neck. He reached up to slap the site of the pain and winced, retracting his hand a half second after impact. A burn. A real, honest to God burn lay on his nape, melding the dream world and reality in ways that, on any other given day, Dirk would have assumed was an impossible way.

He’d heard the family stories, but they were just that, he assumed: stories. Fairytales. Folktales passed down through the family and altered through the generations, not this… this  _ thing. _ Dirk had assumed Hal was his family’s boogeyman, meant to keep children afraid to step out of line.

The real thing was much, much more terrifying than some monster in the closet.

Dirk scrambled out of bed to get dressed in fresh clothes, trying to wrack his brain for whatever else he could remember his family telling him. Stories. Rhymes. Fairytales. Fuck, what else was real? Ghosts? Vampires? Fucking Bigfoot and Mothman? Maybe Little Red Riding Hood was gonna turn up and beat the shit out of a wolf or something the second he turned his back. 

No, no, that was stupid. Focus.

Hal. What did he know about Hal. Dream eater. Dropping your guard could invite him. Things to avoid ran through his mind, the things drilled into his mind by his brother, ranging from giving up true names in the past, something about salt, or milk and bread, to not standing in mushroom circles and-

… Mushroom circles. 

Mushroom circles were portals between worlds. There was no way John was taken through dreams alone, his body would have been left behind. If he went somewhere, it had to be physically. There had to be a mushroom circle somewhere nearby. Shoving his feet into his shoes, Dirk ran as fast as his feet could carry him to the woods near John’s home, looking high and low for any signs of circles in the dirt.

When he finally spotted the white mushrooms gaily arranged in their near perfect circle a hop skip and a jump away from a stand of trees, he wanted to shout with relief as he jumped inside to stand, prepared for what came. He’d get there and get John and…

And…

Fuck, what was he going to do? How was he going to defeat Hal? He could remember some of the things faeries were apparently weak against, or that they hated, but would they really work against a spirit like Hal that ate dreams and drained souls? It would be like trying to use mosquito spray against an angry polar bear. He was essentially going to be turning up bare handed to try getting John back, and yet even when he thought about it he was hard struck to think of anything he really could have brought that would prepare him better. A normal weapon wasn’t much use in a world where the rules weren’t the same.

Maybe, if he was lucky, he could take a note from the fairytales and use his wits to his advantage.

Dirk was still weighing his options when the surroundings suddenly went blurry, colors running together like wet on wet watercolor gone berserk. He felt nauseated once again, same as he had in his earlier dream, as butterflies began to emerge from the swatches of color and swarm him. Things went dark for a moment in the cloud, Dirk with his arms up to guard his face from the thousands of wings, worried he wouldn’t be able to breathe safely with all the insects flapping about. When they brightened, Dirk dropped down to his knees and promptly threw up outside of the circle.

He shook for a moment before slowly getting back to his feet, wiping his mouth with his forearm. Ugh. Not the best way to make a dramatic appearance, that was for sure.

The forest air was warm, inviting, comfortable enough to sleep in. Leaving behind the mess and the oddly damaged looking mushroom circle, Dirk advanced till he found the ruins of the tea party nearby, then hurried his steps even further beyond when buildings appeared in the distance. No, not buildings, a single splendid compound of topiaries and butterfly gardens, high arching architecture and brightly colored stained glass windows. A castle in its own right, it lay unguarded, an open invitation for Dirk.

“JOHN?” he shouted. There was no point for secrecy. He’d essentially been invited, Hal no doubt knew his home had been invaded. The only reason Dirk was here to begin with was John, and somehow, something in his heart told him he was nearby.

  
  


\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

  
  


John had searched every single room he could manage to open the door of from top to bottom. He’d discovered a large kitchen, a library, tons of living quarters ranging from servants rooms to grand suites, and even a music room. He’d found treasures that were no doubt either real or imaginary made real like everything else in this creepy ass fantasyland, and yet he had no interest in touching them or looking them over. Aladdin’s Cave of Wonders struck in his memory, touching the treasure and becoming trapped forever, but it would be overkill even if it were true.

Best not to fuck with the powers that be and get Double Screwed, John decided.

He was about to give up and find somewhere to curl up and wait out a growing headache when he heard his name being called. He grimaced, wrinkling his nose automatically. It sounded like Hal. ...But, wait. If it was Hal, wouldn’t he just appear and do his usual creepy advances and actions? He couldn’t imagine that… that  _ thing  _ doing anything normal like calling for him from a distance instead of just appearing behind him like something out of a B grade movie or teleportation meme. That meant-

“DIRK?” John called, freezing, waiting. Listening. Hoping. Prayi-

“JOHN. DON’T MOVE, I’M COMING!”

Holy fuck.

Holy fucking shit, it was Dirk. It was Dirk, and he was here and he was going to get to go home, and-

“FUCK YOUR NOT MOVING, I’M COMING TOO!” John shouted, already grabbing hold of his silks so he could lift them and run in the direction of Dirk’s voice, taking stairs two at a time as he tried to guesstimate where the shouting was coming from.

“NO, STAY STILL GOD DAMN IT, I’LL BE THERE IN A SECOND.”

Yep. That was definitely Dirk.

“SCREW YOU,” John shouted back, happy enough he could cry. 

They reconnected at the foot of a set of stairs, John jumping the last four steps to all but tackle Dirk head first to the ground. Winded but satisfied, Dirk didn’t have a word of complaint. He just grabbed John tight around the middle and squeezed him, head bowed to his shoulder.

“Jesus fuck, don’t ever scare me like that again,” he insisted. “Come on, we’ve gotta get you home, your Dad’s losing his goddamn mind worrying about you and the cops are already-”

“The  _ police??”  _ John said, startled. He figured his dad was upset, but the cops? Holy shit, this was another order of extreme. “I don’t.. I don’t know how to get back,” admitted John. “I tried the mushroom circle I got here through and it didn’t work.”

“We’ll figure it out, maybe it’ll work now that I’m here,” Dirk said. “I managed to come through on my own, without assistance. So. Maybe it-”

“That’s not all,” John admitted, worrying his lip with his large teeth. “It’s. ..Dirk, I fucked up,” he croaked.

“Fucked up?”

“I. I ate something. And drank something,” he said. “I was frustrated and thirsty and crammed something in my mouth after drinking tea like in my dream and. ...Dirk, I fucked up  _ bad,  _ I don’t know how I’m going to leave. He’s got my-”

“Shhhhhh. We’ll figure it out, okay? I promise,” Dirk soothed, squeezing John again. “For now, get off me. We’ll go back to the mushroom circle and see if we can get anything to happen, then we can look for-”

“For me?” Hal asked, strolling in from outdoors. “Lovely weather we’re having. Though it does seem to have brought the pests in from outside,” he sniffed, taking a drag on the same pipe that had marked Dirk’s neck earlier. Dirk flinched instinctively when he saw it as if it would burn him once more, remembering the sizzle of flesh, the heat.

John glowered and pointed to him. “He’s got… Dirk I think he’s got my soul.”

“You think?” Hal said, gesturing to his necklace after blowing a smoke ring. “I squeeze the air from your lungs, and you  _ think  _ I have your soul? You’re lucky you’re attractive, John.”

Dirk shuffled to get up from the ground, standing between John and Hal pointedly, looking for all intents and purposes ready to fist fight. “Let him go.”

“No, but nice form with the asking. Nicely enunciated and everything,” Hal chuckled.

“ _ Let him go, Hal, _ ” Dirk said pointedly again. “What do you want? A trade?”

“I don’t do trades, human. Rarely do things I want end up on trades, which means I’d be doing you a favor. We don’t do favors unless there’s something spectacular in it for us,” Hal explained. “I have his soul fair and square in this case, even if he got here originally under different means. Nobody forced him to eat my food, and yet he ate and drank. He’s bonded here now, Dirk. ...Look at him closely. Don’t you already see some changes?” Hal asked, holding one elbow so he could smoke while Dirk panicked and looked towards John as he sat up and slowly stood.

From the outside, John looked normal. Scared and stressed out, but normal. It took real hunting to notice the new tips to his ears, to notice the faint glow to the eyes. Dirk held John’s face in his hands, tracing the edges of his jaw with his thumbs to try soothing the growing terror he saw on John’s face once recognition set in that there were changes he couldn’t detect on his own but that Dirk himself saw. 

“He’ll stay here now,” Hal said simply. “I’ll take good care of him, my precious little hummingbird. I had plans to keep him here anyway, but once he broke a golden rule it was more of a self fulfilling prophecy in itself. I don’t make the golden rules, I merely abide by them when they align with what I’m after.”

“...What about a bargain,” Dirk said. “Me for him.”

“I can’t accept a trade, once he’s broken a golden rule. Bargains, mayhaps. But not a trade unless the boon suits me.”

Dirk wet his lips, and racked his brain. Think. Think, think, think, think, what did spirits like? Winning, gambling, bargains, rule-

“...How  _ much _ did he eat and drink.”

“Enough.”

“I remember Persephone was kept in the Underworld for a translated amount of how many pomegranate seeds she’d eaten. A set number of months,” Dirk said, uncertainly at first then with more confidence when Hal fixed him with a poisonous glare. “ _ How many months worth did John eat and drink.” _

Hal gripped his pipe hard enough that the metal bent before dropping it to the side. Slowly but surely, he allowed his appearance to change, his wings emerging and the red markings reappearing on his face. He fluttered softly off the ground in order to get into Dirk’s face, all but growling at him.

“Are you proud of yourself, boy? Proud for remembering stories? For picking apart minute details to find the needle in the hay stack?”

“How many months, Hal,” Dirk said, unflinching.

“Six, at least,” insisted Hal. “Perhaps more.”

“Six months a year,” Dirk said, wetting his lips. “No less?”

“He drank  _ and _ ate, you’re lucky I don’t just keep him forever for eating anything at all. Those changes won’t disappear,” Hal said, continuing to stare Dirk down intently, waiting for him to flinch. “Your neck. How much does it ache? I bet it burns something awful. Pity, I fear such a thing would be permanent.”

“Six months. ...John. This is a very serious question. Can you handle six months in and out, if it means getting out at all?” Dirk asked, unwavering.

John could only stare. Was he serious? He laughed a few times before it quieted down in his throat, John realizing that nobody else was laughing. This wasn’t funny. This wasn’t a joke. This was dead serious.

“...If it’s the only way, I can,” John said.

“Let him go, Hal. Collect him in six months,” Dirk said.

“Why should I?” he snapped, fluttering away to round on John, curling around his back and grasping his chin with one hand, his free hand picking up his necklace with the softly glowing marble inside. “He’s mine right now, why should I give him up a day sooner than six months? Why should I go second when he’s already  _ here _ ?”

“...Because it would make me like you more,” John piped up, going rigid in Hal’s grasp. “That’s what you want, right? For me to like you? I’d like you more if you gave me this chance to get my affairs in order instead of just letting people think I’m dead for half a year. I can’t do that to my father. If you actually care about me at all, you’ll do that for me. And in six months I’ll come back to you.”

Hal frowned. John had a point, and he hated it. As wonderful as it would be to greedily keep him here the six months before returning him, gaining favor with his new human would be a boon. 

“Tempting. But I’m already at my limits from allowing you to leave at all. Make the pot a bit sweeter. Your liking me is good, but it’s not enough of a gain to take the bargain out of hand.”

“He’ll be away from me for six months at a time, isn’t that a good enough bargain for you?” Dirk spat. “What better revenge than to hurt me at the same time as making him happy?”

The pot was sweetened just enough to interest Hal in opening the other side of the portal.

  
  
  


\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

John’s reappearance had been a cause for celebration as much as it was then a cause for tears. Though still a bit confused, James was accepting of John’s explanation of why he’d be all but disappearing in a few months once more, on the grounds that he’d be okay upon returning. That he could handle what was happening. They had promises from Hal about visitations in dreams between father and son that would, hopefully, quell some of the heartache. Any dreams Dirk could have about John would be merely that: dreams of his own making. It was a heavy price, but it had gained John a bit of freedom in a position where he might have had none.

On the day John was set to leave, butterflies awaited them at the mushroom circle, as well as their master dressed in casual human clothes that looked eerily like the outfit Dirk was wearing that day down to the pointy shades. John’s father hugged him so hard he was sure his ribs would pop, not wanting to let his baby boy go till the last possible moment. When he did, it was Dirk’s turn, holding John gently. They’d already said their goodbyes, had made the most of the six months while they could, but it was still a bittersweet parting.

“I’ll be right here in six months, waiting for you,” Dirk said softly. “I’ll dream about you every night.”

“I know,” John said quietly, nudging his chin onto Dirk’s shoulder. 

“I’m so sorry this happened, John… If I’d just listened to the stupid stories, then-”

“Don’t. We’ve already been over this, you can’t kick yourself for things that aren’t your fault. I’ll kick your ass before I leave and kick it again in six months because I know you’ll have moped over it again,” he chuckled.

“While we’re young?” Hal said. “Are you quite done? I’ve a castle worth of beings to introduce you to and we’re burning dreamlight.”

John squeezed Dirk once more before leaning up to kiss him, pulling back with a grin. “Six months.”

“Six months,” repeated Dirk. “And not a fucking day longer or I’ll come and drag you back myself.”

Slowly they parted, and with his bag on his back, John headed towards Hal and the circle. Hal reached for John’s hand and clasped it tightly for no other reason than to piss off Dirk, pettily delighting in the frown it earned him. They entered the circle and waited… and then were gone.

James breathed out softly and stared.

“You know, you boys explained everything to me and I still half believed it was a prank til the last second. ...He’ll really be back in six months, right?”

“Of course he will. And if not, I’ll get him myself, like I said.”

The two stood there looking at the circle, already feeling their loss.

It was going to be a long six months, and an even longer lifetime afterwards of adjusting to what lay in store for John.


End file.
